


Secrets in the Darkness

by Autumn_Maple_Tree



Series: The Ancestor [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-07-15 04:50:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7208489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Autumn_Maple_Tree/pseuds/Autumn_Maple_Tree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when Olle gets closer and closer to Sam and Dean? How soon will the immortal tell them the whole truth?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Olle's first case, after Potosi, was just what Gabriel told him it was: Simple salt and burn. Nothing else coming up on the werewolf front means he has to wait for the full moon. One of the possible demon sightings was only a few hours away from his ghost so that was his next stop. After chasing the damn thing across three states and despite his considerable knowledge of ways to make demons talk, this low level minion knew less than he does about the current state of hell; when it is clear the meatsuit is already dead, Olle leaves the body salted and burned in a shallow grave before moving on to the possible witch in Chicago; he needs to get paid for the vampire's nest anyway and figures it will be two birds with one stone. 

When, he forgets to ask himself, has he ever been that lucky?

When he gets to Chicago, Olle checks-in at The Drake and contacts Gideon. His arrangement is to meet a third party that night who will confer payment for services rendered; $100,000 owed plus an extra $90,000; ten-thousand for each of the nine vampires over the allotted ten. The exchange is easy, made in a public place, and Olle took a cab from the hotel so he can walk back; knowing something will happen; he has been surrounded by shifters and werewolves since an hour after he contacted Gideon. Not wanting to draw too much attention out in the open, he stops for a coffee, then hails a cab back to the hotel; he pretends not to notice the driver is a shifter, or that he is being driven away from his hotel. 

When enough time has passed Olle would look like a fool if he failed to notice he was not headed back to the hotel, he looks up at the driver and says, “There is nearly $200,000 in this envelope and I'll give it all to you if you're smart enough to turn around, go back, and tell David and Gideon who else is involved in this.” The cabbie refuses to speak to him so Olle shakes his head, “Suit yourself but it is going to be a terrible way to die.” That, at least, gets him a disbelieving snort.

As the sun sinks behind the horizon, the cab pulls inside an abandoned building. Margo Lassiter and Hiroyuki Iwamatsu are waiting for him with a dozen shifters and wolves; Olle is, sadly, not surprised. Getting out of the cab he asks, “Do you just want this,” he throws the envelope at their feet, “or is this a 'my head on a pike' situation?”

“I want your head,” Margot says heels clicking in her $2,500 boots, walking over to pick up the envelope. “He wants your heart,” she gestures to Hiroyuki who simply smirks. 

He hasn't been frisked yet, but there are guns trained on him so he figures no one thinks he would be so stupid as to draw on them. With that speed no one expects him to have, though, he has Margo by the throat, lifted to use as a shield, backing up to the cab. She tries to struggle but he is too strong, cutting off her oxygen so she goes limp against his chest. His size means the vehicle offers him almost no standing cover but he put his angel blade through the front seat into the driver's heart before he got out leaving him with a running means of escape. 

He uses his free hand to open the driver's door and pull the body to the ground before dumping a now unconscious Margo into the car. Taking a hostage is dangerous and turning his back on Hiroyuki even more so, but he manages to run down at least half of them on his way out of the building; that should slow them down enough not to follow him. He takes two bullets, one in the shoulder and one scrubbing his hip, he realizes later, but it could have been much, much worse. 

He heads through the city, toward Gideon's home, and, without preamble, he knocks on the door; refusing to wait for the butler to announce him. Striding into the dining room, he dumps the still unconscious Margo in the floor at Gideon's feet saying, “There are traitors in your midst.”

Gideon sighs, “You need medical attention.” Looking at his butler he orders, “Find Sean and have him bring the first aid kit, then get David Lassiter on the phone. Tell him to get here, now, and to bring his wife.”

“If they come near me again, Gidoen,” Olle says when they are alone, “I won't hesitate to kill them and anyone they bring with them.”

“How many did you kill tonight?” he asks offering the big man a seat and pouring two glasses of whiskey.

“Just the cabbie. I offered him the money as payment for turning everyone else in to you and David, but he refused.” Olle drains his glass as the doors open and a man enters with a paramedic's box. Olle pulls his shirts and his shoulder holster off then sits quietly while the vampire digs a bullet out of his shoulder then cleans and bandages it and the gash on his hip. He is dressed again by the time David walks in with a female werewolf. 

“What the fuck is going on?” David exclaims when he sees his sister now chained in silver to a dining chair, having regained consciousness but refusing to speak.

“It would seem,” Gideon says, “your sister and Hiroyuki attempted to waylay the good doctor.”

“Margo, no, what did you do?” David asks looking at her shocked and ashamed.

“He is a hunter,” Margo spits with furious scorn. “He needs to die! But we are working with him? Paying him? They are beneath us!” The slap echos through the heavily paneled room and she laughs when David starts, shocked by what he did. “You always were weak! I don't know what father was thinking, leaving you in charge!”

“Doctor,” David says calmly, “this is my wife, Violet,” he says turning from his sister to introduce the woman he walked in with to Olle.

“Mrs. Lassiter,” Olle says reaching out to shake her hand, “nice to meet you ma'am.”

She nods politely before David continues, “I'm sorry about my sister, Olle,” he says sincerely. “Were you injured?”

“He's bleeding,” Violet says. “There and there,” she points to his two injuries.

“I was forced to take a hostage as a means of escape,” Olle says. “Gideon will, I'm certain, give you proper details. I killed a shifter, the cabbie who picked me up; he refused offer of payment for turning in those who aligned themselves with Margo and Hiroyuki. And,” Olle says, “I needed to assure my means of escape.”

“I'll take care of it,” David says resigned to the mess he now has to deal with. “Is there anything we can do for you? Any way I can repay you for your kindness to my sister in allowing her to live?” Margo gives a derisive snort and David hangs his head.

Olle shakes his head and smiles, “I told Gideon, I've returned to hunting. I will be around from now on. If any of them cross paths with me again, I will not be so lenient. What you all need to know, though, is I have a name for the Darkness now and information. It is a girl, a woman, named Amara; she has been consuming souls. Stay away from her and contact me if you hear anything; please,” Olle says before turning to Gideon, “I've heard of a witch locally, nothing happening, but it seems she is recruiting. Would you know anything?”

“Strange happenings,” Gideon says, “I heard the Grand Coven were hunting her not long ago but now she seems to be untouchable. Rowena McLeod is staying at The Drake; she came to us to hide something for her but we haven't gotten it yet.”

“Thank you Gideon. Stay away from her; she is dangerous and the Winchesters are hunting her.” Olle shakes everyone's hand before saying, “I'll see myself out.” Let them clean up their own messes, he has enough on his plate.

He walks a block to a Walgreens and sends a silent prayer of thanks to whomever is listening for his forethought when he put a blank prescription pad in the inside pocket of all of his jackets last month. The antibiotics and vicodin take about a half-hour but using his Oliver Davis FBI badge as identification means the pharmacist doesn't ask any questions, even though he buys more than enough medical supplies to make it apparent he is injured and caring for himself. Using his newly purchased bottle of water, he downs two pain killers and the antibiotic before he leaves the building and, by the time he gets back up the road to the bus stop, he feels a little better. Taking the bus, it takes him about a half hour to get to the hotel. Back in his room, he decides, since he knows where Rowena is, to take another vicodin and get some sleep before deciding what to do about her.


	2. Chapter 2

Olle wakes up the next morning feeling hung over and pissed off; he never liked vicodin and he is tempted to pray to Gabriel so the angel will heal him. He realizes, though, what a bad idea that would be so soon and what a worse idea it would be to pray to Lucifer or Balthazar so he gets up, showers, changes his dressings, takes his antibiotic, and more vicodin, before going downstairs to Lavazza Espression for coffee and something for breakfast. His luck, he figures, must be turning up again after last night because Rowena comes in while he is enjoying his second Bicierin of the morning and a paninni. 

Olle follows the witch for the rest of the morning trying to decide what he wants to do about her. Knowing she has The Book of the Damned, the codex, and Charlie's cipher means he needs her alive; the fact that she fucked him over centuries ago means he wants her to suffer before he kills her. Her ability to use the book and the codex, not to mention her not inconsiderable power, against him, means he has to be cautious in his approach or he will be left a dead body trying to make himself right again and she will be in the wind. 

The fact that Rowena never leaves the hotel is telling; she is either waiting or hiding. The most obvious approach, he reasons around lunch, would be to just walk up to her and start a conversation. Based on physical appearance, they could be the same age, and hitting on her would be the easiest way to get close enough to get his hands on her. 

Olle approaches her table at Drake Bros' when she comes in for lunch; standing, awkward and imposing, he introduces himself shyly, “Hello, Miss?”

“Aye,” she replies with a radiant smile after giving him a slow once over.

“This may be presumptuous of me,” Olle says with a smile, “but I noticed you this morning in Lavazza. My name is Mikhail,” he reaches out his hand. “I was wondering,” he backpedals a bit, sounding uncertain, “if you're not with someone, I'd very much enjoy being allowed to buy you lunch.”

“Rowena,” she says beaming at him as she shakes his hand then gestures for him to join her. “You're a brawny giant of man aren't you Mikhail?”

He grins at her as he sits, he is wearing light gray suit pants and a cornflower blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up and the top two buttons undone; he knows he looks amazing and he is using it to his advantage. “My parents were Finnish,” he chuckles flirtatiously, “I'm a bit of a Viking.”

After the waitress comes over and they order, Rowena goes right back to flirting, “What is it you do when you're not plundering and pillaging?”

Olle smiles, “I'm a doctor.” He just has to get her alone, and get close enough to her, to use the handcuffs in his pocket to bind her power and make her less dangerous, so he keeps up the witty banter and flirtatious conversation all through lunch. He has the brief, ridiculous, thought that, if she hadn't fucked him over so hard all those years ago, he would be having a nice time. 

After lunch they spend the rest of the day together talking and flirting; he walks with her to the Oak Street Beach and they walk along the lake, bare feet in the sand, before heading back to the hotel. That evening, he walks her back to her room. Stooping the nearly foot and half it takes them to be eye to eye, so he can tuck an errant curl behind her ear and smile shyly, he leans in to ask, “Can I see more of you before you leave Chicago?” 

The double en tendra is blatant and Rowena smiles lasciviously, “Aye, you can.” Stretching up, she wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him. 

He wraps one arm around her waist, lifting her up because that stoop was ridiculous, while his other hand goes to his pocket for the handcuffs. As soon as they get through her hotel room door, though, it all goes to hell. Before Olle can get the handcuffs on her, Dean is there hitting him in the head with a blackjack because he has no idea who he is, giving Rowena the chance to throw them all across the room. Olle has the presence of mind to rip her bag from her grasp as he goes flying, before she can pull out one of the many hexbags she keeps in there.

Olle's attempt to pass this off as him having no idea what is going on is futile when Dean exclaims, “Olle man, what the fuck are you doing here?” as soon as he notices who he cold-cocked.

“Not now Dean,” he groans trying to move but all of them are held tight with magick. He could break away, easily, if he wanted to, but that would mean too many questions.

Rowena goes over to where Sam is pinned against the closed armoire housing the television and says, “Now, now Sam, did you think I'd make finding the book that easy?” She begins to search, slowly becoming more frantic and screeches when she hears Dean chuckle.

“We found it exactly where you hid it Rowena,” Dean says. “We've got all your favorite toys now, bitch, what are you gonna do?”

Never one to back down, especially against a man, Olle knows she is going to hurt one of them; badly. He starts to pull himself out of her steely grip but stops as she pulls a dirk from under her skirt and makes her way toward him; at least she won't hurt Sam or Dean. She is beyond furious from the look in her eye; the satisfied smile on her lips when the blade sinks into his flesh, tearing through his diaphragm and up into his chest cavity, is a thing of nightmares. 

“You boys have fun trying to save your friend,” she says as she steps over Olle's gasping, writhing form and out the door. 

Olle can feel himself drowning; the pain is white hot in his stomach, he can feel the pressure building in his chest as his lungs fill with blood and his extremities are starting to get cold. He tries to focus, pray to Gabriel to let him know what is happening or speak to Sam, who is supporting him against his slightly smaller chest, but he just ends up frothing blood out his mouth to run down and further ruin his already blood soaked shirt. He hopes the pants will be salvageable, hopes the boys take them off him before they salt and burn him; they are part of a three piece suit. 

Listening to Sam's soft reassurances, Olle missed Dean's prayer, but sees azure eyes, and the most beautiful pair of lips God ever made, as Cas appears out of thin air before him and reaches his right index finger out to Olle's forehead. Seconds later he feels much better, but it is apparent the angel is fallen, and weak, because he is still covered in his own blood and in a lot of pain from the stabbing, his head is throbbing where Dean rang his bell a few minutes ago, and the injuries he suffered the previous night are still there. Apparently, all the angel could do was the bare minimum to keep him alive.

The first thing Olle does is disentangle himself from Sam's grip and, standing up, say to Cas, “Thanks. I'm Olle,” holding out his hand to the angel in introduction.

Cas smiles, “Castiel,” he says looking at Olle's hand for a moment before taking it in a firm but socially awkward shake.

“Olle man, what the fuck are you doing here?” Sam asks.

“And why,” Dean wants to know, “were you making out with that bitch?”

Olle is busy looking down at his clothes, and Sam's, as well as the floor trying to calculate how much blood he has lost over the past eighteen hours. He is going to need a few days rest and, maybe, a blood transfusion. He bends down, more than a little light headed, to pick up his handcuffs but rounds on Dean at the accusation, only stumbling slightly. “I was trying,” he says harshly, “to get in and subdue her quietly,” he dangles the cuffs in Dean's face. “I was trying to do it without drawing attention to myself. I was trying to do it without getting anyone killed!” He looks down at his clothes, his pants are ruined, and over at his blood, sticky and drying on the floor, then back to Dean, “Which the two of you didn't manage!”

“You're not dead, though,” Sam points out.

“Because you two have an angel on speed dial!” he quips pointing hard at Cas who just shrugs. “Lets go back to my room, I need to sit down.” 

“You're staying here?” Cas asks curiously; obviously he always thought hunters stayed in cheap motels.

“I always stay at The Drake when I'm in Chicago,” Olle says leading them out the door to the elevator. He gets dizzy and Sam catches him as he stumbles but they make the rest of the trip to his room easily.

“Either of you B+ or O?” Olle asks stripping his clothes off once they are back in his room. “I could use a pint of blood.”

Dean comes over to take a closer look at where the man is injured. “We're both O, can you even do that here?” he asks pulling the bloody bandages off Olle's shoulder where it was torn open when he was jerked across the room by Rowena. “How'd you get shot?”

“I pissed off a werewolf and his shifter girlfriend,” Olle says settling down in a chair. He grabs his vicodin bottle before he remembers his head injury and, scowling, puts the bottle back down. There is blood, he notes, matted in his chest hair and he wants a shower but he needs to figure out what the four of them are going to do now. “I can do a blood transfusion,” he gestures to a large, hard, black suitcase across from where he is sitting, “I have everything I need.” He brought the suitcase up from the truck last night in case he needed to stitch either wound closed, but they weren't bleeding anymore when he got up this morning so he felt good letting them heal on their own.

“What were you doing with Rowena,” Sam asks while Dean pulls out everything Olle needs to give himself blood.

Dean pulls off his flannel, drags a chair over close enough to Olle he can work without getting up and plops down; the big man answers Sam's question while he starts to siphon Dean. “I heard rumors about the Grand Coven sending witches to The States. I tracked those rumors, and what I learned from a demon two days ago, here. I had no idea it was Rowena McLeod but once I saw here,” he shakes his head checking Dean's line before he slumps back in his chair.

“How do you know Rowena?” Dean asks.

Olle pulls a book, one of his journals, out of his satchel in a chair behind him, “ This,” he hands the book to Dean. He doubts Dean, or Sam even, can read the elvish he'd used to write about Rowena but the sketch on the opposite page is unmistakable.

Cas, however, takes the book and, after reading it says, “She double crossed your ancestor. She was given something precious to keep safe, the book doesn't specify what, and she lost half of it before throwing the other half away on purpose.”

Olle nods getting up, dizzy and a little unsteady, to get himself a glass of water. “I want to know if she knows what it was, and where it is, before I kill her,” he says draining the glass and refilling it before coming back to the table to pull Dean's line and get himself set up for the transfusion. 

Getting his own line going, he pins the bag of blood to the wall with his butterfly knife before hooking it into his port. “I'm stuck here for the next two to four hours while this runs in, you guys want room service?

While they wait on room service and, then, eat, Sam decides he will drive Olle's truck and Cas, who used a lot of his strength to get himself here before he even tried to heal Olle, can ride with Dean back to the bunker. Dean doesn't like the idea but Sam wants to know what more Olle's ancestor may have known about Rowena and he knows Olle needs a few days of solid rest to recuperate. They get everything packed up quickly and, by the time Olle is showered and in clean clothes, they are ready to leave.


	3. Chapter 3

The twelve hour trip back to Kansas was a blur, Olle slept spread out in the back seat most of the way, they stopped once for Sam to donate a pint of blood to Olle's recuperation efforts. Once he woke up in the garage, Olle was sure to act appropriately impressed with what should have been new surroundings. What he quickly realized, though, was the boys had yet to explore a tenth of the bunker. After the initial tour, library, kitchen, gun range, and dungeon, he was lead down a corridor to an empty bedroom. 

Thoroughly disappointed in Sam and Dean's lack of initiative in finding out how nearly fathomless this place actually was, Olle turned from the empty room to Sam and said, “Nah, I slept the whole way, I'm gonna go exploring if you don't mind? I won't touch anything, but this place is huge and awesome!” He lets awe and enthusiasm show in his voice before going on, “You and Dean get some sleep, you must be knackered. Cas can keep me company,” he says tilting his head at the angel.

The bunker was designed and built to be a base of operations for an army of Hunters and Men of Letters; Olle is determined to see it come to good use after all his hard work. When Sam and Dean head to bed, Olle starts 'exploring.' His first order of business is to fain hunger and move past the break room the boys thought was the kitchen to find the large industrial kitchen and adjoining dinning room that looked like something straight out of an Ivy League Institution. Once that was done, he moved through the triage area of the infirmary and showed Cas the hospital wing of the bunker, complete with surgical suites. Coming around the long way from the hospital, he 'stumbles' upon the lift and stairwell leading to the sub-floors. 

Cas says, “This is a great discovery, we should find Sam and Dean before we go exploring further; it may be dangerous.”

Olle acknowledges his concerns saying, “You're right,” but he points out the lift floors are labeled: S-1 Library. S-2 Magicks S-3 Armory. S-4 Training Center. S-5 Barracks. S-6 Holding Cells. S-7 Archive. S-8 Cursed Objects. “We should let them sleep for a while. I'm going to eat something and get some rest myself,” Olle says pulling the gate on the lift shut and heading back toward the break room.

After the exploring, and exclamations, he really is tired and hungry so he makes his way back to the break room to find some food before he lies again, telling Cas he must be lost, and goes straight to his quarters, where the bed is large enough for him, and goes to sleep. He knows Cas is smart enough to know he is hiding something, and he knows too much, but he is not a threat, so, he hopes Cas will overlook his knowledge of the Bunker for now.

After his nap, Olle stumbles, groggy and still in pain, into the break room to find Cas and the boys talking in hushed tones. They stop when he enters and he suspects Cas is telling them how much more of the Bunker Olle discovered in a few hours than they had in years. He stretches, standing barefoot in jeans and a t-shirt, filling the entire doorway before he says, “It's really hard to orient yourself here, what time is it?” No one answers but his phone already told him he slept almost fourteen hours and it is, indeed, breakfast time. He comes into the room, gets coffee from the pot, and sits at the table, against the wall, beside Sam, before he speaks again, “Your infirmary is pretty amazing, but you guys have almost no medical supplies; I could stock it for you, if you want.” He pulls a bowl and the maple and brown sugar shredded wheat towards him, to start making himself some breakfast, before he goes on, “You guys gotta show me the armory and, hey, did you find anything, alive or dead, in the holding cells when you first got here?” He is tempted to laugh at the looks on their faces; it, apparently, has not occurred to them yet to check. He is pretty sure there is nothing down there, but he thought it would bear mentioning. 

Sam, finally, answers his first question, “You'd be willing to go through our inventory and order supplies? That would be great man. You can go check out the sub-floors after you eat and one of us checks your shoulder and your side.” Olle nods and smirks when the three of them leave the room; he knows they are going get a head start so they don't look like idiots when they show him around later.

All told, Olle spends two weeks with them at the Bunker. He feels much, much better when he leaves; Cas even manages to heal him again before he goes, and he doesn't even have scars to show for his run-in with Margo. The infirmary is fully stocked, Olle is sure he has worked in third world villages with fewer medical supplies than they have now, and he managed to find his old blueprints of the Bunker, under his bed, to give to Sam before he left; they layout the Bunker in its entirety, like a hive. After a more thorough inspection, Sam and Dean discovered The Men of Letters had yet to fully furnish the Baracks so the thirty or so odd sleeping quarters on the main two floors were all they had for beds, but the training rooms were awe-inspiring and the armory was Dean's new favorite place to be. Sam had barely left the library since the lift doors opened the first time. They were taking their time moving what meager supplies were housed upstairs to the sub-floors, so a thorough inventory could be done. Cas was helping Sam catalog everything for proper shelving; much of what was in the upstairs library were reference materials only. Olle was looking forward to when he could integrate his library with the Men of Letters Library. With a promise he would stay in touch, and drop by if he needed anything, Olle left. 

**

Back in Kansas City, Olle makes his way home, part of him dreading seeing Gabriel again. They had been keeping their distance since he left and, because he was at the Bunker the past two weeks, he hadn't spoken to any of them. He found himself praying, oddly, to Lucifer; telling him what was going on, asking him to keep everyone in the loop, and asking him how Gabriel was. The Devil had the decency to text Olle and they had hours and hours of conversation; mostly about the book he was currently reading or any new information Olle discovered from Sam or Dean. They didn't speak about Gabriel, Lucifer told him how well their training was going but the only mention of his brother was to say he was leaps and bounds better now than the last time Olle saw him.


	4. Chapter 4

The almost five hour drive from Lebanon went too fast for Olle to calm his nerves and, pulling into the garage, he sat there for a few minutes before finally going inside. Beth, Balthazar, Linda, and Kevin were due to arrive tomorrow, he hoped he could keep busy trying to get their rooms ready and stock the kitchen, but his initial exploration of the house meant he knew it had already been done. After searching all the upstairs rooms, he goes to the truck for his bags of weapons and makes his way to the basement; he hears the clash of weapons before he reaches the bottom of the steps. He is a nervous wreck and has no, and every, desire to see Gabriel so he starts to slowly empty his bags and clean his weapons before putting them away. He knows they know he is there, and they know he knows they know. but he has cleaned every knife, gun, and sword before he folds the empty bags up and lays them in the corner to make his way through the armory to the training area. 

Whomever did it, the training area is now at least six times its original size with hundred foot ceilings and light streaming in on all sides; Olle thinks it's beautiful. He stands just inside the doorway, leaning on the wall, to watch the two archangels, Creation's first soldiers...Creation's first anything, as they try their best to kill each other with fifteen foot bamboo poles and, only occasionally, use the ability to travel through six dimensions to evade or strike. Olle knows angels do not, in fact, have wings; what humans, and other creatures, perceive as wings is a battle hardened manifestation of their Grace as a weapon. 'But,' he thinks dreamily to himself, 'it looks like wings when their speed and dimension hopping combine with this manifestation of their Grace to make it look like they can fly.' Gabriel, too, always liked to call his golden, Grace-filled attack a flight of frenzy; Olle is pretty sure he is the angel who lead everyone to believe they all had wings. He chuckles at these thoughts and the two angels stop mid strike to stare at him, wondering what is so funny about what they are doing.

Olle sobers immediately and mumbles, “Sorry, I wasn't even here.” The brothers shrug and go back to fighting. Olle is more than a little taken aback by their appearance, however, now that he has gotten a good look at both of them. The archangels now bear a much closer resemblance to their 'French Mistake' selves than who they really are. Gabriel is sporting a full beard and mustache, neatly trimmed, with hair that is shorter than he normally keeps it while still being long on top. Olle is reminded of a particular selfie of Richard circulating tumblr and Facebook, the only thing missing is a pair of Clark Kent glasses. Lucifer's hair is longer than normal and messy but not drastically so while he is definitely growing a van dyke. It is strange to be able to equate these beings to men he never knew but is still, somehow, familiar with.

Pushing off the wall, he shakes his head to clear it as he goes back through the basement and upstairs to the card catalog on the laptop in the living room. He had been thinking, after spending so much time with Cas, that something has to be done to juice the angel back up to full power a lot quicker than he was healing on his own. He knows there is a spell, half a spell, he stole from a Mesopotamian witch who was trying to figure out how to make herself a Goddess by drawing power from archangels, from Gabriel; he had killed the witch and taken her writings so no one could find them. It wasn't much to go on, but the idea of rising power could be manipulated, he thought, to possibly help Cas ascend from his status as fallen. If they still had the angel tablet, or Kevin's notes, it would be easier but maybe the prophet would be able to help him when he got here tomorrow.

Several hours later, when the angels come into the room and both fall into the winged backed chairs across the desk, Olle looks up from the stone tablet he was looking for earlier. Neither of them look like they have just spent hours in combat, they are clean and dressed in jeans and t-shirts. “What are you doing?” Gabriel asks pulling a cherry blow pop out of thin air to pop into his mouth.

“I got into some trouble in Chicago a couple weeks ago,” he is curious, looks at Lucifer, but the angel shakes his head; Gabriel should know all of this. 

“Yeah?” the archangel-demigod says. “What happened?”

He wants to glare at Lucifer but forces a thought at him instead, “You didn't tell him? Any of it?”

The only reply is a flash of images; Gabriel training, even alone, for days, then him pacing while he read book after book for any idea of what his aunt was up to, then, the most painful one, Gabriel bent over the pool table, in tears, while he prayed to his Father for guidance and strength; asking for forgiveness for all his failures and wanting to know how to become deserving of his Father's plans for him. Then Lucifer's voice in Olle's head, “I couldn't give him any reason to go to you. I won't let you hurt him again and I won't help him continue to hurt himself by doing things that make him feel worthless or weak.”

Olle nods, nearly imperceptively, the whole exchange taking place so quickly even Gabriel fails to register it. “Got ambushed when I went to Gideon to get paid. Killed a shifter, got shot.” He shrugs going on, “Found a witch, Rowena,” he sneers, “but Sam and Dean were there and it turned into a cluster fuck. I got hurt pretty bad; Cas had to fix me up.”

“And?” Lucifer asks.

“He could keep me from dying,” Olle says, “but he's not up to much more than that yet. He wasn't able to heal me completely and I've spent the last two weeks at the Bunker with the boys, recovering. He was, finally, able to smooth out all the edges before I left this morning, but that was after a pint of blood from both the boys, two weeks of antibiotics and vicodin, and sleeping fourteen hours a day most days.”

“You're looking for a way to juice him back up,” Gabriel says and Olle nods. “One of us,” he gestures between him and his brother, “could just start following him around. He'd get stronger faster in closer proximity; even if no one knew we were there.”

“He wasn't just cast out,” Olle says.

“What do you mean?” Lucifer asks.

“Even you,” Olle says pointing to the Devil, “were just cast out. You rebelled against Michael, not Heaven; not until after you were cast out. Castiel chose Humanity, chose Dean, over every other thing in Creation; more than once.”

“He fell from Grace,” Gabriel says and Olle nods again, sadly.

“All the other angels can juice back up because they are allowed access to Heaven. Now, especially with Hannah's death, he is no longer allowed access to Heaven. It could take him centuries to recover completely or he could just continue to get worse until he is, once again, human; permanently.” Olle slides the tablet across the desk, “Remember this?”

Gabriel looks at the tablet nodding, “Mesopotamia.” 

Olle nods and pulls the tablet back before going on, “The bit about ascension is what interests me. He'll draw power from either of you, anyway, once we get him back in fighting shape. I wish I had access to the Angel Tablet or Kevin's notes.”

“Sam and Dean don't have them?” Lucifer asks.

Olle shakes his head, leaning back in his chair, “Metatron was thorough and made sure Gadreel was as well.”

“Then we find a way to ask Metatron,” Gabriel says. “Where is he?”

Olle laughs, “That is where it gets complicated. He's human now, thanks to Sam and Cas. Even if we could find him, he'll talk under torture, but that doesn't mean he won't lie. It could take centuries for one of you to pick through his mind and find exactly what we need. And I can't think of anything to offer him as incentive; Sam and Dean should still have his Grace but I'm not in a position now to offer it back to him and I wouldn't anyway.”

“He's dangerous,” Lucifer says. “Even human.”

“Why do you think I took the tablets with me when I left?” Gabriel asks. “Hiding them was essential. All that power, Michael couldn't have it and you couldn't use it either.” He looks at Lucifer and says, “Dad meant it for people and at least hiding it meant, even if they didn't have it, neither of you did either.”

Lucifer nods before he says, “And Metatron, when did Michael realize he could use him? How long ago did he leave home as well?”

“Legion decided to kill him, when he rebelled against Michael,” Olle says. “He knew how dangerous leaving him alive was, but he couldn't find him. He was sure Michael had him hidden away somewhere; none of us knew he was even still alive until Sam and Dean stumbled upon him accidentally.”

“Until he becomes a problem, or his knowledge become essential, we leave him alone,” Gabriel says and the others nod agreement.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super short chapter. I'm starting to wonder if this whole thing is going to be as long as the last one.

Olle decides they are going out for dinner; being confined in the Bunker for the past two weeks had him feeling more than a little claustrophobic. He didn't feel there was much chance of anyone identifying Lucifer or Gabriel, given how little like themselves they looked right now, so long as they make sure to conceal their Grace. When he brought up the idea of going out, though, Gabriel and Lucifer both hesitated to agree. 

“What's wrong?” Olle wanted to know.

Gabriel shrugs but Lucifer answers the question, “We've spent the past few weeks training, almost constantly, and the thought of going out there and trying to blend in is more than a little daunting.”

Olle can understand that, but he is looking at Gabriel; he knows there is something else going on and he has a suspicion their new appearance has something to do with it. “Getting out there is important. All of you learning to socialize, to blend in, is important. Dinner, for me at least, is important.” 

Olle moves through the house, then, putting the books and tablet he was using for research away, before he goes on, “I know it's daunting, but it is important you all learn, or remember, why we're doing what we are; why we're fighting the Darkness and the demons and the crazy angels and the murderous Creatures and the tormented souls who can't let go. If you're just doing it because you've been told it's right, or your want revenge for Michael, or your insanity, or your loss, or even if your doing it because your Father brought you back and you feel it's His will; those aren't excuse enough. If you're willing to go on hiding, not understanding, or wanting, and fighting because you don't know anything else, I don't want you to fight at all!” He is being harsh, but he has to make them understand; not why he wants dinner or why he needs to get out of the suffocatingly empty house, he has to make them understand why they should be fighting. 

Both angels sat, a little shocked, staring at Olle as he leaned on the edge of the desk. “Well?” he asks looking at the two of them expectantly, “What's going on? What's the problem?”

“It's all a little overwhelming,” Lucifer says. “I feel like I've gotten to a point where I'm comfortable, here, with all of you. I'm not sure how well I'm going to be at going out into the world Olle.”

“You were doing so well,” Olle says gently. “You really were, when we were in Potosi, Luce; you were polite and conversational, I was so, so proud of you.” Olle smiles before going on, “I was glad you were doing well. What,” Olle asks moving over to stand in front of him, “has set you back and why; can you explain it?”

Lucifer looks like he is struggling to find an answer so Gabriel speaks up then, “Why is our motivation to fight so important to you? What does it matter why we do it so long as we do it?”

Olle looks at his best friend sadly and says, “Because if any of you manage to live through this, you've got nowhere to go but to live among men. If you can't learn, or remember, why God thinks they're so important, if you can't learn to live like we do, then it's possible you'll become the next big threat. Fear of the unknown, feelings of superiority or inferiority, and unwillingness to change are dangerous; especially coming from a being as powerful as you both are. Look at what being a Trickster got you, Gabe. Look at Metatron; granted he was guano already, but still.”

“You're right,” Lucifer says confidently. He turns to his brother and says, “We need to try, we need to change, and we need to understand what it is we're fighting for.” Gabriel nods and the two look back at Olle expectantly.

The big man shakes his head, “It's alright to be afraid. It's alright not to understand. Just know you can always, always find help.” 

**

A week later, after everyone is settled into the house, Olle leaves again. He missed the full moon last month, but he mentioned the werewolf to Sam and Dean who said someone would take care of it, but he has found a new case, a haunting in Vermont; the time he spends in Ohio first keeps Beth busy for the foreseeable future. Luckily, heading to Vermont means he can pay Becky Rosen a visit; getting out of her everything she took of Chuck's, though, becomes an act of burglary. Next, a simple salt-and-burn, before he is off to Sacramento looking for vampires, then Arkansas hunting Zombies, and Atlanta killing Amazons; as well as a half dozen other places for small jobs. He is sure to stop in the bunker every time he drives through that part of Kansas, just to keep in touch and check up their progress; nothing much showing so far. Every stop in Kansas City, though, makes him hopeful he can bring them all together soon so they can get the real work of stopping the Darkness started.


	6. Chapter 6

A quick stop in the bunker at the end of September, changes Olle's plans and moves his time line further ahead much faster than anticipated, though. Pulling into the garage, Olle notices Baby is not in her normal parking space. He goes through, stopping in their kitchen for a snack, before he finds Cas; snuggled in Sam's bed, in a pair of flannel pants and a white t-shirt, watching reruns of Jenny Jones. The angel looks much as he has for the past few months, depressed and exhausted. Olle knows he needs to find a way to recharge his batteries sooner rather than later. 

Dropping in the desk chair by the bed, he takes a bite of his apple before saying, “Hey Cas, where is everyone?”

Cas looks up, startled to see him, and says, “Olle, where did you come from? Sam and Dean are not here.”

“Okay, man,” Olle says finishing his apple. “Look, I just stopped by 'cause I'm outta cash and headed back to Kansas City; I needed a shower,” he really did, he had been driving for three days. Cas makes him no answer so Olle just says, “I'm gonna go do that then. I'll come back and check on you when I'm clean.”

Disarming takes him a good ten minutes and arming can take almost as long so, when he gets out of the shower, Olle throws on a pair of sweatpants and a black tank top before heading back to check on Cas. He figures he can stay a few days, so Cas isn't left alone to stew in his own juices. 

When Olle comes back into Sam's room, several things are happening all at once. Cas has found Metatron and is preparing to go confront him, but his phone rings while he is explaining what happened to Olle. Sam is calling to inform Cas he and Dean found Amara; she has been with Crowley this whole time, and they are literally outside Crowley's hideout, about to confront her. 

Olle makes an executive decision by turning to Cas and saying, “You've got to get us to them ASAP Cas!”

“I agree, Metatron will have to wait.” Olle is barefooted and totally unarmed but Cas hands him an angel blade before pulling his own and, grabbing his arm, the angel whisks him away.

Olle has been angel mojo'ed into battle before, but this is intense. Olle shoves Cas, who is staggering but still on his feet, toward where Sam is doing battle with six demons, trying not to kill them, before he turns toward the door Dean was entering as he arrived. The door is locked with powerful magick, but it takes very little of his own effort to overcome the spell and push the door open, even though it locks directly behind him. 

The first thing Olle sees is the Darkness, Amara. The guise of a sweet, pretty, young woman is misleading. What Olle sees is a black, stormy, thunderous void with the tiniest pinpricks of light, those souls she has consumed, trapped within, writhing and swirling and dying. She is the nothingness atheists believe in and the truly suicidal crave; she is unbeing. Everyone turns to face him as he bursts through the door, blade in hand. 

Amara appears before him, confused, “Who are you? And why do people keep coming in my room?” She touches him then and he feels like he is transported back to the time when he carried the Mark; her nothingness and her rage, her insanity, are overwhelming, yet, somehow, comforting, and he hisses in pain but doesn't move. She pulls him down to her level and tries to consume his soul, but, to her confusion and his relief, she is unable to take what is not there. Turning back to Dean she says, “I know you'll never hurt me and I will always come to your rescue; we will always save each other.” With those words she is gone and Crowley slowly begins to regain consciousness while Dean stands in shocked silence rubbing his lips. 

Olle knows whatever happened in here before he showed up, could not have been good, but his musings are broken by Crowley throwing him and Dean across the room. Olle prays then, to Gabriel, telling him how very bad things have just gotten, asking him to be ready to save the boys and his brother if Crowley goes too far. 

Crowley is going on and on at Dean now about how many times he could have killed him and how, now, he means to finish the job; no matter how much he might regret it later. Dean is stuck fast to a pillar but Olle forces himself to use his age against the demon King of Hell and break free of his hold to circle around behind him. Jerking Crowley around to face him, he slams the smaller man into a pillar as Dean pulls away and scrambles to take up arms. Olle looks at the King of Hell and says quietly, “Your Majesty, we need to talk. You owe me a debt of service McLeod, and I'm still pissed about those hounds.” 

Crowley is startled but recognition crosses his face and he laughs, “Olle, Olle, Olle; I heard you were back in the game.” Looking over at Dean he says, “I get it; Moose and Squirrel are pretty to look at but, come on man, you can't think they won't kill you first chance they get.” Quietly, he adds, “Over and over and over again; just for shits and giggles.”

“How about I give you back to your older brothers?” Olle asks menacingly. “You think Gabriel was the only one who could open the Cage? I built it with him. They'll eat you alive once I tell them who you are.”

Crowley blanches then and looks like he may be about to get a lot more cooperative but, right then, Dean shoves Olle away from the demon to finish him with an angel blade. Olle stumbles and Crowley takes the opportunity to throw Dean across the room again and slip a hexbag into the pocket of Olle's sweatpants. He looks right at the big man and says, “I've been stealing my mother's hexbags Ancestor, enjoy the blinding rage; maybe the three of them can kill you before you destroy them,” before vanishing into thin air with a chuckle.

The edges of Olle's vision fade out and turn blood red while the rest of his vision blurs and he feels the tattoo on his side tingle stopping the magick in the hexbag from spreading beyond his physical body. He feels the need to kill overwhelm him. He cries out in rage, falling to his knees and folding in on himself to try to control what is happening. With Crowley gone, Cas and Sam burst into the room, wanting to know what is going on, but all Olle can hear is the blood pounding in his head and the tempting call of the magick begging him to kill. Scrambling over to the big man, Dean begins to dig through his pockets until he finds the bag. 

“Just hang on, man,” Dean says pulling a lighter from his pocket and lighting up the bag. 

Unfortunately, the destruction of the bag does nothing for Olle's urge to kill and he starts to shake, violently, while his eyes bleed . Then he looks over to see Gabriel and Lucifer standing in the doorway. Gabriel comes over and says, “You're going to have to get them to kill you.” 

Lucifer nods and says, “Try not to hurt Cas, so he can heal them, but hurt Dean enough he can't stop you without killing you and, then, hurt Sam. Just enough that, if Dean doesn't kill you, you'll be in a position to kill Sam.”

“This is going to speed things up,” Gabriel says. “But, we need things to move faster now.”

Olle nods, breathing heavy, and grits his teeth to say, “I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I can't stop. I can't control it. I, I...” he screams and lunges for Cas first. He knocks the angel stone cold unconscious by throwing him into the fireplace and ramming his head into the stone. 

Sam is there in an instant trying to get the magical cuffs on him and Olle throws him across the table away from where Dean is coming at him. Letting the desire to kill wash over him, Olle engages Dean. The hunter comes at him trying to incapacitate, and Olle exchanges blows with him letting Sam get his bearings and move in again. With Sam close enough Dean will have to make a split second choice between Olle's life and Sam's, Olle breaks Dean's arm, dislocates his knee, and throws him across the room to land right next to his gun. 

Turning, Olle dislocates Sam's bad shoulder and kicks him to the ground before taking hold of his neck in a clear indication of what he means to do while leaving enough of himself, especially his head, exposed for Dean's gun. Dean, though, hesitates and Sam tries to get free while Olle slowly chokes the life out of him. To keep Sam still, Olle is forced to drive his knee into the man's side, breaking some of his ribs. When Sam cries out and falls back to the ground, Olle feels the first bullet. He keeps going, making sure not to do serious damage to Sam, so Dean is forced to put six more bullets in him before he drops, as dead as he can be, on top of Sam. 

Cas uses the last of his strength to heal them and take Olle's body back to the Bunker while Sam and Dean clean up their mess and drive back. The two days it takes the boys to get back to Kansas, Gabriel sits with Olle. Cas cleans and wraps Olle's body while his brother sits, invisible, with a running commentary of what Cas is doing. When the younger angel goes to build a pyre, where they burned Charlie not six months ago, where Dean burned Kevin, Gabriel, careful not to disturb his shroud, breaks Olle's neck; so the constant pain he has been in since he was shot will subside. Then he is sure to go behind Cas and douse the pyre in Holy Oil so Olle will burn faster. When Sam and Dean return, they carry the big man's body to the pyre and Gabriel stops time for a moment to douse Olle with Holy Oil before they set him alight. Gabriel doesn't wait to watch the fire burn this time, he merely returns to Kansas City, knowing they have even less time than they thought now that everything is about to change.


	7. Chapter 7

It takes Olle nearly fifteen hours to pull himself together and claw his way up from the small grave where Sam and Dean buried his ashes after the pyre burnt itself out. He was placed beside Charlie, who was placed beside Kevin; each grave about the size of a shoe box, marked with a flat stone with a name and year. 

Sam and Dean were, after the two day drive and everything that happened before, asleep when Olle pulled himself, dirty, exhausted, and still in pain, from the Earth; Cas, however, seemed to be waiting for him. Laying, panting, on the cool ground, while the late summer rain washed the ash and dirt from his back and caked his front with mud, Olle heaved from exertion while Cas spoke, “I felt you out here, the surge of power to remake your body. What are you?” the angel asks with suspicion and a little bit of fear.

Olle flops over on his back, uncaring about his nudity, to say, “Cursed Cas, just cursed.” Folding his legs under himself, Olle stands and, turning to the still skeptical angel, says, “I need a shower; have the boys gotten rid of any of my stuff yet? I'd like it back.” Olle begins walking back toward the garage entrance of the bunker, hoping Cas follows without trying to kill him.

“With the exception of the clothes you died in,” the angel says falling in step with him, “everything is where you left it three days ago.”

“Awesome,” Olle says stopping over a drainage grate in the garage to hose most of the mud and dirt off, to keep from tracking it through the bunker to the shower. As he wipes the worst of the mud and water off with a shammy, Olle says, “You should probably go wake the boys and tell them what's happened. I'm going to go shower, get dressed, then breakfast; I need to eat and coffee is always appreciated.”

“How am I expected to leave you alone? You could be working with, or even a part of, the Darkness! You could be waiting for the chance to destroy us all!” Cas is serious, which upsets Olle a little; he had hoped he had proven himself to them over the course of the past few months.

“Did I kill any of you when I was hexed by Crowley?” he asks seriously. “Even though I had an angel blade in my hand right before I attacked you? If I wanted you dead, if I wanted that cunt Amara to roam free, why would I be so ready to have you fly us right into the middle of it all? Why not just let her kill them or take them or do whatever it was she was planning? Why not leave with her?” Olle talks while he walks through the bunker, he turns to Cas, waiting for an answer, while the water for his shower heats up.

“You did it on purpose!” Cas exclaims. “When burning the hexbag didn't work, you knocked me out so I couldn't incapacitate you then you disabled Dean and purposefully gave him no choice but to kill you or watch Sam die.” 

Olle nods with a smile before getting in the shower. As Cas is leaving he calls out, “Tell Dean I'd like something straight from Waffle House for breakfast; complete with smothered and covered and cheesey scramble.”

“You're not demanding at all are you?” the angel ask with uncharacteristic snark.

Olle laughs and says, “Learn to snap, like your brother, and we could all be well fed.” 

Olle is using the bathroom attached to his bedroom, where he put all his stuff when he arrived three days ago, so he takes his time showering, then finding clean clothes and arming himself, before he grabs his cell, where it had been left charging, and starts through the corridors toward the kitchen. As he walks he prays, “Gabe, I just wanted you to know, I'm good. Thanks, man, for breaking my neck; I was in agony. I'm about to confront the boys. I'm scared Gabe, I have no idea what to expect. How much am I going to be able to get away with not telling them? If they don't take it well, this could all be a disaster. This is all going to be alright, though, right? I mean, they didn't kill you after everything you did to them.” Olle laughs before ending his prayer as the walks into the kitchen, “I'll let you know how it goes.”

Sam and Dean are standing, on guard, with Cas behind them as Olle comes down the steps. Sam speaks first, “What the hell are you?” 

Olle goes over to make coffee because, apparently, no one cares what he said before he got in the shower. All eyes are on him as they realize he has, over the past months, learned his way around. He starts the coffee then speaks while going over to look, unhappily, in the empty refrigerator, “We go through this, then we go to Smith Center for breakfast; I'm starving!”

“What makes you think we're ever letting you leave here again?” Dean asks menacingly.

“Fine,” Olle says pouring coffee from the still brewing pot, “you want to know what I am.” He goes over to the table and proceeds to pull a series of necessary weapons from his person; lining them up on the table he sits down and starts to speak, “I'm not a Child of Eve,” he cuts a gash along his left forearm with a silver knife. “I'm not allergic to iron,” he cuts again. He goes through a dozen different possibilities, each leaving a gash, a smudge, or a chemical burn on his arm, before Cas stops him with a healing hand to his injured arm. “I'm not a Leviathan, or a Faye, or an angel, or anything else supernatural. Like I told Cas, like I'm sure he told you, I'm just cursed. I'm just a cursed human soul.”

“I put seven bullets in your torso Olle,” Dean says seriously as he drops across form him at the table, coffee in hand. “Over half of them in your heart and lungs; you were dead.”

Sam sits beside his brother, taking a long drink from his cup before he speaks, “We watched you burn, we buried your ashes in salt. How?” he gestures to Olle. “How are you back man?”

Olle has been debating what, how, to tell them and the easiest thing he can think of is a version of the truth. He empties his cup and starts to speak as he goes for a refill, “The first time I died, I was cursed by a very, very powerful, very distraught, witch. The nature of my curse, I found later, ties my soul to all of Creation.”

“Is that why Amara couldn't take your soul?” Dean wants to know.

Olle nods before going on, “That's what I'm assuming. I have a soul,” he says sitting back down, “but it is not, exactly, intact. When I'm killed, I'm trapped in my body until it is destroyed, returned to the Earth, and then my body is formed anew and I am left to scrape and crawl my way out of the Earth and back to life.”

“You hinted you knew Gabriel,” Cas says interested. “Did he know about your curse? Was he the one who cursed you?”

Olle smiles, laughing, “I knew him. Trickster, demi-god, Loki, archangel. We got to know each other a little before he was killed. I miss him,” Olle says with a sad smile, remembering how much he did miss the archangel while he was dead; how much he misses him right now. “He found me and explained the curse to me; told me about my soul,” all of that was true, the assumption about the timeline, though, is all them, Olle thinks.

“Cas,” Sam asks, “can you tell, about his soul, just by looking at him?”

The angel shakes his head, “I'd have to look for it, like I did with you. Only archangels can see a person's soul as a living, breathing part of their vessel.”

“We trust you if Cas checks under your hood and tells us you ain't lying,” Dean says. 

Olle nods agreement and turns in his seat, back against the wall, so Cas can do his cavity search. Taking a deep breath, Olle exhales as Cas pushes his hand into the man's stomach and up, through his diaphragm, to feel around for the pulse of energy that is a human soul. Cas takes his time and Olle continues to breath deeply, through clenched teeth, but never cries out; Sam and Dean watching the whole time. When Cas latches onto that tiny piece of his soul that resides in this body, it takes everything in him not to draw the angel in and pour power into him in an attempt to restore him to his former strength. After a moment, Cas releases the soul fragment and pulls his arm free.

Turning to Dean and Sam the angel says, “What he has told us seems to be correct. I can feel the curse inside him and his soul is broken into infinitesimal pieces if the portion of it I felt inside him was any indication.” Cas looks down at Olle, “I believe what you've told us is the truth.”

“Great!” Olle turns to the brothers and says, “Let's go get breakfast, I'm starved!”

Olle drinks the rest of the pot of coffee waiting for the brothers to shower and dress, but, fifteen minutes later, they are walking into the garage. “Let's take the truck,” Olle says throwing the keys to Sam. “I can't ride in the back of the Impala, you barely fit in there,” he says to Sam. The brothers nod and Dean and Cas climb into the back of the truck for the twenty minute drive to Paul's Cafe in Smith Center.


	8. Chapter 8

The drive is comfortable, but not quiet, Olle's radio station is classic rock and Dean sings along the whole way. Once they are inside the diner, waiting on food, Sam turns to Olle and asks, “What are you going to do now?”

Olle thinks that is a terrific question and, being honest, he has no idea. Now that he is specifically on Amara's radar and Crowley knows he is back in the game, going back to Kansas City is no longer safe. “I'm not sure,” he answers. “Going back to Kansas City, now that Crowley has me in his sights, puts the people I have a connection to there at risk. I'll keep hunting, I guess. I'm good at it and it makes a difference. I'll save as many as I can for as long as I can and sort the rest out as I go.”

“You don't have anywhere else to go?” Dean asks.

“I can go back to Finland,” Olle says as the waitress refills his coffee. “But the fight, Amara, is here and I want to help! I have an advantage; she can't eat my soul and Crowley can't really kill me, even if he tries.”

“How many times have you died?” Sam asks. “How old are you?”

Olle is treading dangerous water now but he tries to be evasive and honest, “All that stuff on my Wikipedia page is true. I was killed in the suicide bombing in 2005, then I was shot, then a building collapse, and, a few months ago, I was stabbed. The first time I died, when I was cursed, it was heatstroke.” Olle knows he is letting them assume a lot, but telling them everything means telling them everything and he knows Lucifer and the others are not ready, yet. “I was born in 1982.” He is, technically, telling the truth; he hopes that counts for something when the time comes to tell them everything.

“You know far, far too much,” Cas says, “to only be a few months older than Sam.”

Olle will give them something, but he has to think about how to phrase it so he takes a long drink of his coffee first. “You said yourself, Cas, that my soul was scattered throughout Creation. You know as well as I do, Creation doesn't always exist in linear time.”

“So you have access to the knowledge of all human history through the fragments of your soul?” the angel asks.

Olle shrugs, “I have no idea. I was a prodigy when I was kid. I try not to question it any more; it makes my head hurt.” 

“I'd very much like to read your mind,” the angel says curious.

“I'd like to fuck Alex Skarsgard,” Olle laughs as the waitress comes over with their food. “We can't always get what we want.”

“I don't need your permission,” Cas says as everyone else starts to eat.

“That's kinda rape-y dude,” Olle says making a face while pouring syrup over his pancakes and bacon before drenching his potatoes and eggs with hot sauce and starting to eat.

Sam makes the same face and says, “He's right Cas. That's a huge invasion of privacy.”

“Come on Cas, we talked about this,” Dean says taking the hot sauce from Olle. “Stay out of other people's heads.” Then, quietly, he whispers, “Or at least don't talk about it.”

Olle knows the angel can barely afford to pay attention right now so there is no way Cas can force his way into Olle's mind. He continues to eat and tries to think of what happens next. He really has no idea where things go from here. He is hoping, if he is quiet long enough, that look on Sam's face will morph into a suggestion. 

When they are all finished eating, and nothing has been forthcoming, Olle decides to return to the previous conversation, “Your brother was the only one who's ever read my mind; he didn't like what he saw.”

Cas looks up from his coffee startled, “Who?”

Smiling, Olle laughs, “Gabe.” His smile falters then, turning to Sam and Dean, “I can't believe you both left him there alone to die. Lucifer was still there when I got there, gloating, crying, even more insane than normal with grief.” He laughs bitterly, because everything he is saying is true, “Do either of you have any idea what I had to let him do to me so Crowley could get Gabe's body out of there?”

“You let Crowley have his body?” Cas asks furious. 

“I let Lucifer do things to me that would make Crowley and Alistair cringe. When Othello finally drug me away from there, Crowley was waiting for me with Gabriel's body.” It was a lot harder than Olle thought it would be to get away from the Morningstar when he was mad with grief and the Mark; if Crowley had not sent the hound, it is possible he would have been trapped there until Lucifer was back in the Cage. 

“So Crowley knows what you are?” Dean wonders. “Why, then, did he curse you?”

“Who's Othello?” Sam asks.

“Why would Crowley just give you Gabriel's body?” Cas wants to know.

Olle laughs at the bombardment, “Othello is one of Crowley's Hellhounds. Will is the Kennel Master and he misses his work so, many of the younger pups are named after them.” He grins as Sam gapes at him, the only one who made the full connection. “Crowley knows I'm a cursed soul who cannot die, so he cursed me, I think, hoping the two of you would be entangled with me and lose sight of both what he did and Amara until he can find her. He gave me Gabriel's body because I gave him someplace to hide when Lilith started hunting him and, after she was dead, when Meg and Lucifer began searching for him; he owed me and, when I asked, that was how he repaid me.”

“You weren't going to kill him.” It is not a question and Dean sounds angry when he says it. 

Olle shakes his head, “He did a lot of damage when he was searching for Purgatory.” 

“We both did,” Cas says sadly. 

“No Cas,” Olle says, “he lead you around by the nose and, despite what you did in the end, he caused centuries worth of damage to Hell and to Purgatory.”

“He shifted the balance,” Cas says, the truth just dawning on him, and Olle nods.

“What do you mean?” Sam needs to know.

Cas stares into his cup for a long moment before he starts talking, “Amara, the Darkness, is older than anything but God, apparently. The archangels were created to defeat her, but the Leviathans were their primary weapon,” 

“And the Gregori,” Olle interjects to Cas' nod of agreement.

“Eve, though,” he says slowly like he is just working this all out in his head, “is older than angels.”

“So?” Dean wants to know.

“Her children, the alphas, would be stronger than anything we've seen, or fought, like the Leviathans,” Cas says. “Crowley tortured, and supposedly killed, a number of them.”

“I have a book somewhere, Cas,” Olle says finishing his coffee, “I need to let you read it. I don't think Crowley could kill them, even if he could find something to hurt them badly enough to make him think he had.”

“What type of book?” the angel wants to know.

“It's a journal, it belonged to Cain, I believe, but I was never able to talk to him about it. He talks about learning about the first Children of Eve after he received the Mark.” Olle shakes his head, wondering where that book is and making a note to make sure Beth finds it and Gabriel or Lucifer brings it to him so Cas can see it.

“What language is it written in?” Cas wants to know. 

“It's an elvish language, older than any human writing,” Olle says. “Gabe taught it to me and gave me the book for safe keeping. I have a lot of his things.”

“So you knew him,” Sam asks, “really knew him? As more than just the Trickster?”

Olle smiles, “Archangels can see a persons soul without a cavity search. He found me, by accident, and explained to me what my soul looked like. Without his help,” Olle laughs because this is probably true, “I'd still have no idea exactly what I was or what was wrong with me.”

“The balance,” Sam asks, “what does that mean?”

“You banished, or killed, the archangels,” Olle says. “You banished the Leviathans and Eve back to Purgatory. Crowley taking over Hell means there aren't even any Fallen who'll help us and you three've managed to alienate, or enrage, all of Heaven. There is no longer enough good in the world to counterbalance the evil.”

“And?” Dean wants to know.

“Even if all seven and a half billion people on Earth were to, right now, become sentient of all that is going on in Creation at this moment,” Cas says, “and then rise up to fight with us, their isn't enough power in their souls, compared to what is stored in Heaven, Hell, and Purgatory, to defeat the Darkness or to influence any of those realms to help us.”

“So there is nothing we can do,” Sam says brokenly. “I've destroyed Creation.”

“No, Sam,” Olle says. “You don't know what she is, what she wants, where she is, or what she is going to do; that means we have time to figure it all out, time to find a solution, time to convert Heaven, and Hell and Purgatory if we have to. Creation means Creation and not just us; she, it, is a threat to everything that isn't Amara; so we find another way. I gather all the pieces of my soul back together and sell them off piecemeal if I have to, but we find a way!”

“You sound awfully convinced,” Dean says.

“Yeah, well,” Olle says emptying his coffee cup and motioning for the waitress to fill it up, “we've established she can't, or hasn't found a way to, hurt me. You think I wanna be alone with her at the end of all things? She's not my type.” No one speaks while Olle gets more coffee but, when he orders pecan pie, Dean gets his own slice with a wink at the waitress. Olle chuckles, “I suppose the next thing I do is help you guys find a way to stop the Darkness.”

“After pie,” Dean says seriously as the waitress sits their dessert down. 

“After pie,” Olle agrees as they both start to eat.


End file.
